Journey onto the Storm (BOOK 2)

Chapter 18

HAYVALA

Mother, though I have planted a snowrose for you, it has yet to bloom its snow-speckled flower. Hayvala stood in the stifling flurry, wrapped in her outside dress, lined with heavy furs and feathers from shed gryphlings. Interwoven with warmth she lost with Mother and Ser Yokonei, she gazed down at the struggling bulb. Though the Auro blessed the seed in the pool of silver, it has yet to bring forth your life. Hayvala twisted to the other patch in the garden, empty of another's snowrose — rejected by all for the curse of the Trayes. Yokonei. I did save a spot for you, but... Hayvala left the memorial patch behind to walk to the palace garden's wall. I will try to find one for you. One that'll shield all the rest, as you had for me.

Her legs carried her to the top of the wall, where the blizzard blasted against the ancient barrier around Volaris which kept out the lethal cold. Snow fell in waves and there was nothing but the frozen wasteland. "Everyone sees misery," she forced out through old tears, holding her hand against her chest, protected by gloves. "Are we truly doomed to this?"

Ser Yokonei stood beside her after the procession of the loss of Naveera's Queen. His moon-tipped feathers shuddered with the wind, an unreadable expression on his face. He stood tall, strong, unwavering. Two hands locked around his back while he followed her wherever she went, no matter the peril of falling into a snowbank. His silver locks flaked with snow, and though she fought to read the misty aura of soft-touched ice, he said naught else — a different, older grief creased his brow. Days passed with added heaviness which melted his aura to the floor, but she knew not what plagued his deep, sparkled river.

"Ser Yokonei?" she asked, pleaded for stability, for the strength to get herself and her baby brother through the endless night. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to stand strong like you. Tell me how to be more than a doll to be dressed up and play princess. Her nails dug into her palm while her Navee loops pulled on her scalp and made her bleed for her ethereal beauty.

He took a small step forward to the edge, and the wind fluttered his scaled armor. Hayvala bit on her tongue and longed to spit fire to heat the world for her people. Snow fell onto her shoulders in slow motion when she looked to her defender, her knight. Violet eyes studied the blanket of frost, and the sun rose behind them and banished the dark, in the direction of Irimount, one of Naveera's oldest, grandest cities Father forbade her from visiting.

"The Grand Spire in Irimount," he said through the roar of the blizzard. "I stood atop it once as a young squire. It goes into the clouds." He lifted his head. "My lady... across the mountain range, over the wastelands... the sun rises, shedding its light on a sea of green and a sky of azure to lose yourself in. I climbed those steps for a fleeting glimpse. You could see how the world curves on the distant horizon." One more step, and he loomed over the edge, and poised himself as if to sprout wings. "You could stare at it and never know what it holds." He raised his hand to the wall of snow, gathering it into his palm. "Maybe... we are small in the grand scheme of Aztryxer."

Her heart burned at the imagery he painted on a splattered canvas. Hayvala remained still when he drew from the edge, nothing more than a mirage of snow. Frozen tears formed on her cheeks when he knelt and kept a firm hand on his glaive with decorated ribbons, and he smacked his fist against his chest and bowed his head.

"I shall protect you to the end of my days," he decreed. "I shall be your shield and lance. On my honor as a Traye, I shall protect you within the magick of spatial truth."

And yet, I could not stop time for you. I could not protect you with the might of changing days. It flickered on her palm, and stopped the flurry over her arm, but it cracked and tore its jagged teeth through her bones. Her fingertips brushed Yokonei's figure, but he burst into nothing but an auric memory. It washed through her head and she found her back hitting the palace battlements. One knight rushed for her from their post inside the warmth of the tower.